Dreams Are Impossible to Ignore
by Bayliwick
Summary: Steve went back in time to be with the love of his life but quickly realizes that his happy ending isn't quite so happy when he keeps having dreams about Natasha. Realizing he made a mistake and Peggy was never the love of his life, now he has to deal with the consequences. Now with two alternative endings: a canon compliant one, and then the fix-it we all need after Endgame.
1. Introduction to Steve's Dilemma

**A/N: My muse had an idea and forced me to write this instead of working on my other stories (which I will finish!), but I like how it turned out - let me know what you think at the end :)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

* * *

The gentle music floated around the room, lulling the guests into a peaceful silence. Several couples occupied the wide space reserved for dancing, of which Steve found himself watching the strangers with slight jealousy. Sipping his champagne, he tugged on the uncomfortable collar of his dress shirt while his eyes scanned the room. Tony and Pepper were amongst the intimate group of couples, the strawberry blonde had her head resting on Tony's chest while his arms encircled her waist tightly.

The setting was lovely and reminded Steve too much of the bittersweet vision Wanda had conjured months ago. Classic jazz that entertained a more lively crowd, the Commandos laughing in the background, bright flashes from cameras to document the night, and Peggy… her hand extended towards him as she asked, "_Are you ready for our dance_?"

It had been so tempting to take fake-Peggy's hand and go home with her, _so tempting._ But alas it had been nothing more than a magic-induced tease, and here he stood in a similar setting reliving his regrets. What if he hadn't crashed into the ice? What if he had tried harder to stay by the love of his life's side? Steve's thoughts spiraled onward until a warm hand clasped over his, effectively distracting him.

"Hey," his partner greeted him, worry lacing her green eyes. He hadn't heard her sneak up on him and he tensed for a moment before realizing it was just Natasha.

Her red hair fell in soft ringlets, framing her delicate features. She had been letting it grow out since the Ultron fiasco so now it was at her shoulders, leading Steve's eyes to the pale green dress she wore that night. It hugged her curves in all the right places, and even brought out the sparkle in her eyes he noticed once his eyes moved back up to lock with hers. At that moment the blond realized just how beautiful Natasha's eyes were as he found himself hypnotized by them.

"Steve, are you okay?" Her moving lips caught his attention and he shook himself out of his daze to answer.

"I'm fine." He sent her a smile that she didn't buy.

"So that's why you're standing alone in a corner single-handedly drinking your way through Tony's alcohol collection?" Nat gestured towards the several empty glasses he had accrued throughout the night on the table beside him.

Shrugging sheepishly, "I can't help it that my metabolism is too fast for me to get drunk."

"Where's Thor and his Asgardian ale when you need him?" She quipped before pulling the nearly empty champagne glass out of his hand to set it down. "Come on, we're gonna go dance."

"Nat –" He protested, but she shut him up with a glare.

"No complaining, Captain Sour-pants," her grip on his shoulder was firm as she weaved them through the sea of couples until they were in the middle. "This is an Avengers Benefit Ball and we have to look 'happy and presentable'." She mocked Tony by mimicking a deeper voice.

Another slow song was just starting and she put her arms around his neck to pull him closer, while he awkwardly put his hands on her waist. "I don't know how to dance though."

Rolling her eyes, Nat instructed, "Just follow my lead and try not to step on my toes."

Together they swayed to the music, Steve trying his best to relax and just enjoy himself but he kept imagining another woman in his arms. Crimson lipstick, perfectly curled hair, and deep chocolate eyes filled with love… "_The war's over, Steve. We can go home now_."

"Steve," this voice was softer, the syllables of his name less clipped. Brown eyes morphed into green, with delicate flecks of hazel in them and a concerned one replaced the loving gaze. Stumbling as he shook himself out of his daze again, he mumbled "sorry" as a painful grimace came over Nat's face. He'd stepped on her toe rather hard at that time.

"What's going on in your head?" His partner asked him, but he knew she must have an accurate guess. "Is it about Wanda's vision?"

Natasha was the only other soul he'd confided in about what he saw that day, just as he had been the only one she told the entirety of what she saw as well. He suspected that Clint and Bruce knew portions, but Steve had been the only one to successfully pry the whole truth out of her about a month after Sokovia in a late night at the new compound. It had been one of their new rules of the partnership to be established; there had to be transparency between them so they could effectively lead the new team.

It was rather annoying at times, like this when he didn't feel like talking about it but he knew she'd beat him up until he did. To honor the rule, he exhaled deeply, "Yes."

Thankfully Nat got the hint that he wasn't in the mood for discussing it, but still saw the pain in his gaze. Like the times before, Natasha's hand came up to play with the hair on the back of his neck soothingly, like how Steve's Ma had used to comfort him when he was sick as a boy. Steve leaned down to nestle his face in the crook of her neck while Natasha murmured an old Gaelic lullaby in his ear until he was able to rid the vision from his mind entirely. It was a system they had developed when one of the two was having a bad day and needed help freeing their mind of demons. She typically used Gaelic for him while he would use Russian for her. Steve had never admitted to himself before, but the fact that she recited his Ma's native tongue to him in times of distress was touching, it was a special part of their friendship that he loved and cherished deeply.

Both Avengers were oblivious to the stares they were garnering from their close intimacy in a public space. Pepper whispered to Tony about how cute the red-head and the blond were while Tony just rolled his eyes and muttered about how he was going to lose the bet with Sam now. Wanda and Vision, who had been dancing a few feet away shared a knowing glance at their team leaders before going back to focusing on their embrace while Sam and Rhodey shared identical smirks since they had bet on Nat and Steve finally realizing their feelings for one another that night.

Steve allowed Nat's comforting Gaelic to lull him into a peaceful state, completely forgetting his surroundings. He stayed like that until the music changed abruptly to a shrill ring, pulling him back to the present.

"Darling," a clipped tone grumbled from beside him. "The alarm."

Blue eyes shot open to take in his surroundings. His itchy collar was gone, replaced by a comfortable and loose sleeping shirt. The couples around him had vanished and Nat was no longer in his arms, although her voice and touch still lingered in the back of his mind. This room wasn't the banquet hall.

This wasn't even 2015.

Four walls of flower-printed wallpaper surrounded him and the bed he sat in with a sleepy brunette snuggling into the pillow to his left. Dazed still, Steve shut off the alarm before slipping out of the bed and into the adjoining bathroom. The cold tile helped ground him slightly as he splashed some water on his face. Blinking in the dim bathroom lighting, Steve took in the gaunt look he still had even two months after coming back to the '40s.

_It was just a memory_, Steve reminded himself, feeling his heart weighed down by that realization. He was losing track of how many times he had dreamed of Natasha since he came back in time. Usually, it was in the form of nightmares, Steve and her being on the cliff at Vormir instead while he had to watch her sacrifice herself, or her getting shot in battle. Sometimes though they would be happy and peaceful, like the memory of that night, dancing together in each other's arms.

His eyes traced his reflection, focusing on the dark bags that still hung under his eyes from a lack of sleep these past few months. Nightmares haunted him nightly, and although she tried, Peggy wasn't able to help soothe him as effectively as Natasha once had. The only solace Steve seemed to have was dreaming of _Nat _and their happier times, which caused a mixture of shame and guilt to spiral in his stomach.

After all, Steve had come back in time because _Peggy_ was the love of his life. Not Natasha.

The two Avengers had never gotten together despite the teasing and bets made by their teammates. Sure they had a close friendship – closer than some – but it worked for them, especially when leading a team or being on the run like they had been for years before Thanos had attacked. They still checked in on each other during the five years following the snap, but they had separate tasks; he was helping people rebuild their lives while she went back to leading a team.

And then she hadn't come back the day of the time heist, Clint's bloodshot eyes meeting Steve's to confirm their worst nightmare had finally come true.

Steve could still see himself standing on the edge of Vormir with a nearly empty case Bruce had given him, holding the glittering stone in his hand. It had been warm and calmed him as he stood in the place his best friend and partner had died in. The color of the exterior reminded him of her hair set aflame in the sun, and for several moments Steve had been tempted to keep it because it was the only real piece of her he had left. Bruce's words were a harsh reminder though, so Steve had winded up his arm to throw it back, only to never follow through as small voice in his head told to not let go.

Now standing on top of the toilet and removing the ceiling tile quietly to not wake Peggy, Steve pulled out a slightly dusty box that he had yet to tell his new wife about. Opening it revealed the Soul Stone, which still glittered brightly of its own accord. The smooth edge of the stone instantly brought a calm to Steve that he hadn't felt in months, not since he'd last seen Nat.

Setting his eyes on the stone once again, the connection he felt for the smooth rock flared to life again. Rubbing it with his fingers, it glowed brighter at his touch and Steve allowed himself to finally make the connection the dreams had been trying to for months with a wave of remorse. Peggy may have been the love of his life once, but she had gradually been replaced by the woman who became his partner, best friend, and confidant.

In the end, it was _Natasha_ who was the love of his life. Not Peggy.

Clutching the last piece of her that he had left, Steve broke down into harsh sobs against the cold tile floor. Tears flowed freely down his cheek, desperately missing her touch and soft lullabies, ignorant to the fact that the stone seemed to be crying alongside him.

* * *

Peggy woke an hour later to find the ceiling tile still misplaced, dust scatted across their normally pristine lavatory, and her crying husband curled up on the floor. An odd-looking stone was in his palm and her hands automatically went to begin rubbing soothing circles on his back, while trying to take the stone away, which sparked almost hostilely at her touch. Pursing her lips in confusion, Peggy just watched helplessly as Steve held onto the stone tighter, only reluctantly allowing his wife's comfort. She stayed silent until Steve cried himself out and drifted off into a gentle slumber against the floor, leaving her to have a suspicious thought that this Steve that had come back was no longer _her _Steve anymore.


	2. Canon Compliant Ending

**A/N: So… My muse and I ultimately agree to make two alternative endings for this story. This is the canon-compliant ending and this is your warning that if you don't want to read it don't. **

**I'm in the process of writing the f**k canon ending – the one where I fix things for my OTP (Romanogers). I don't know when it'll be posted because it's turning into a beast to write like this one is – so stay tuned if you're interested **

**Usual disclaimers: I don't own anything. Also, unbeta'd. And I'm not British, so if Peggy sounds off then that's why.**

* * *

"We need to talk," Peggy said to him that same morning once the sun began to shine brightly through the window. Perched on the edge of her chair, she sipped her morning tea as Steve stepped into their quaint kitchen. He nodded, already knowing what she was going to say as he grabbed himself a cup of coffee to keep his mind alert and off the ache in his back created from the hardness of lying on the bathroom tile.

Despite her insistence that neither of them was to go anywhere until Steve confessed what was behind his episode last night, Peggy was dressed to perfection. Expertly styled curls fell against her shoulder with a slight bounce, her navy-blue dress completely wrinkle-free, and even just the small amount of mascara made her hawk-like eyes seem even sharper this morning. Dread filled his stomach as he approached the table and she withdrew her hand as he tried to hold it reassuringly. Nat had always resisted his touch when she was upset too… as soon as that thought crossed his mind Steve mentally slapped himself.

Nat was gone. He was married to Peggy, who was not Natasha despite the numerous similarities between the two women. Both were stubborn as hell, both could hold their ground in a fight (especially if the odds weren't in their favor), both were beautiful and they used it to their advantage as people continuously underestimated them. Both were loyal to their friends and makeshift families, both of them were caring, gentle, and above all else, they both saw beyond the man behind the shield... they saw Steve Rogers.

As the list went on, Steve forgot where he was until Peggy cleared her throat. Blue eyes met brown. His wife was sitting in a spot where the dawn was peeking through the blinds to highlight the specks of hazel in her eyes and Steve fought the urge to smile. It was one of the first things he'd ever noticed about Peggy Carter: how magnificent her eyes were. And now all he wished for was for them to be green, that thought made guilt bubble up in his stomach. He looked down at the mug in his hand as Peggy spoke.

"Steve," his name was soft on her lips, said with a hint of sadness. "I know you're not the same man who went into the ice. You spent more than a decade in the future, change was – no, _is_ – inevitable. But that doesn't excuse you from the fact that you've been distant and rather secretive, which although I've tried to be understanding and supportive despite it all – you must understand how _bloody_ frustrating it is to always have you brush me off when I inquire about something. Especially after this morning when I found you this morning on our bathroom floor sobbing because of a strange rock."

Her fist clenched around her own tea, where Steve kept his eyes trained on the half-circle of red lipstick on the rim of the mug instead of looking up to meet Peggy's eyes. "And now you can't even look me in the eye!" Trailing off with a heavy sigh, she stood to rinse out her cup. As she stood at the sink, she continued, "I don't need to know everything, Steve. But I need to know some of it if we're going to make this marriage work. I am your _wife_ after all." When Steve's face fell at the reminder of their relationship, all Peggy could hear was the name he had been whispering over and over again this morning.

It had been a women's name. _Natasha_. Fisting her palm tightly around a towel, she missed how white her knuckles became as she scrubbed her cup dry in an effort to keep her tears of frustration at bay. Only once she regained control, did she turn back to Steve, who had finally worked up the courage to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Peg," he said while standing up to pull her into his arms. Peggy resisted slightly, keeping him at arm's length so she could still read his face. Biting his lip uncertainly, he confessed, "You're right that I should have been more open with you about everything, especially about how I've been acting these past few months."

Gently holding her hand, he guided them back to the table to sit down. Peggy sat stiffly across from him while giving him a pointed look to explain. "When I woke up some people found me," Steve winced as he tried to think of how to describe his past while still being vague enough about the future. "They were a _highly-skilled _group capable of helping me adjust to the new era I found myself in. It was hard at first."

His wife tilted her head in interest, this was the first time Steve had talked about how waking up to the future had affected him. "This group helped me adjust. It took time and a lot of it was, uh…" a smile slid onto his face when he thought of the first day on the helicarrier, "…bumpy at first. But eventually, they became my family. And together we formed a team that did missions and saved the world a few times. They were all special to me," his voice cracked slightly as he thought of his friends. Peggy squeezed his hand comfortingly as he continued towards the hard part: "But one of them was the most special."

His gaze was miles away now as he imagined the first time he'd met Natasha. A fiery-haired woman who he had instinctively knew to not underestimate. Within hours he'd seen how truly impressive she was when she had tricked Loki minutes into giving up his true objective – something no other agent had been capable of. Not even Thor, who had grown up with the God of Mischief. And then his thoughts shifted to how their relationship had grown from fighting next to each other in New York to becoming partners for years to come. Peggy almost blanched at the look on her husband's face. With how nostalgic and tender his expression was; she knew before Steve said any more that this person was the reason he had broken down in the bathroom last night.

"She was my best friend," Steve's eyes met Peggy's, begging her to understand. "She just _understood_ me, knew what I needed before even I did sometimes. She helped me the most in adjusting to living in the future… even liked to tease me about being a 'fossil' because I was so old." He cracked a smile at the affectionate nickname. "There was a point when our team started going their separate ways, and she could've left but she stayed with me. We became each other's support system when things would become difficult. Anytime there was a fight she would always be by my side…"

"You loved her." Peggy guessed, her throat tightening as she said it.

Steve nodded. The truth, now that he was cognizant of it felt freeing to admit it. But the fact that it had taken so long to do and had happened after Natasha was gone forever, his heart ached even more than before if possible

"I never fully got over you, Peg." Steve kept going, finding it hard to stop now that he had started. It was like a pot that was finally boiling over the edges, it had bubbled up so long until it eventually began spilling over. "I woke up and wished desperately I'd died in the ice instead. Because living in a world where I couldn't be with you was awful. And Nat – she knew what it was like to feel like an outcast in society. And we both threw ourselves into our work and just stuck together until it became something more."

Peggy stayed silent for a moment as all of this new information sunk in, including the validation of who this _Natasha_ was now. "But something happened didn't it?"

The words were caught in his throat as he thought of Clint's face that day he came back from the time heist. The haunted look in the archer's eyes as he met Steve's gaze would forever haunt Steve. It had felt like his whole world had shattered at that moment, even waking up in a different century hadn't hurt as much. Steve knew hard times from growing up in the depression, to participating in the war and losing Bucky, to needing adjustment to a new era, to even having the presumed love of his life die, to losing Bucky _again_ along with billions of others. Those terrible, horrific moments pained him greatly, but they had all paled to the new, harsh reality that had been created when Clint had met his eyes that day.

It showed Steve that he could live through a lot. He could survive a world without his Ma. Without Peggy. Without Howard and the Howling Commandos. Without Bucky. Without Tony, Thor, Bruce, Sam, Wanda, and T'Challa. But living in a world without Nat – that was _impossible_. It had been why he'd left for his old life, naively assuming he could fit right back into the time he thought he belonged in; when in reality he belonged wherever his partner was.

Shakily, Steve continued, "There was a mission. And a lot was on the line." _Half of the world_, he thought bitterly to himself. "I didn't see it happen. I was somewhere else, but her best friend came back alone and I just _knew_ what had happened before he even had the chance to tell us." His voice cracked towards the end, his futile attempts at keeping his emotions in check failing.

A warm hand came up to cup his cheek, brushing away the tears he hadn't realized were there. "Oh, darling," Peggy murmured, pulling him into a hug as more sobs caused his body to tremble. She cradled him against her chest until he was able to calm himself down again.

Once he could speak again he continued, "That stone you found me holding, it was our mission to retrieve it. All of us were willing to do anything to get it." _Whatever it takes_, his own words echoed in his mind as he fell silent again. Peggy just combed her hand through his hair, caught up in her own hurricane of emotions while waiting for her husband to continue. "Nat had to sacrifice herself for that stone so we could use it to save everyone. It's the only piece I have left of her."

Peggy's eyes darted upwards to trace the wallpaper of their kitchen, using it as a distraction from this whole ordeal. The line between being a comforting spouse and putting her foot down to the notion that her husband was in love with someone else had long past; so how was she supposed to proceed from here? She loved Steve – she had never truly stopped loving him, even after she had accepted his death – but Peggy knew her value too.

She deserved better than what Steve had been putting her through these past few months. He had made a vow as her husband, a vow that Peggy had told him on the day of their wedding that she would make him uphold, a vow to love and cherish her. Yet, this other woman, this _Natasha_, was dead. Steve, her husband, was grieving. He was still hers, just grieving, so there was nothing to worry about. Peggy pressed her lips together, feeling every bit of the possessive and inconsiderate beast she was in that line of thought. How callous was she to be comforted by the fact that this other woman, a great hero by the sound of it, was dead?

So much for female solidarity in a male-driven world, Peggy rubbed the side of her forehead to release some of the tension building there. Where was she to go from here?

Divorce her husband for being in love with a dead woman? No, that was rather extreme.

Force him to sleep on the couch? Perhaps, Peggy did miss having a whole bed to herself to stretch out across. It would be nice to sleep like that again, even if just for a few nights.

Tell Steve to at least hide the stone somewhere she wouldn't have to look at it again? Yes, Peggy decided, that could be a small relief at the very least. Not having to be reminded of this _Natasha,_ for now_,_ might be best. Besides, it sounded like the stone was powerful. Was it even safe to be stored in a bathroom ceiling?

"Does the stone have special qualities?" Peggy inquired as she pulled away from holding Steve, her eyes watching his expression analytically as he thought about her question. When he shrugged, Peggy suggested, "Perhaps we can have Howard take a look at it."

"No," he shook his head firmly. "I can't risk anything happening to it." _To her. _

His wife pressed her lips together tightly and pulled her hands away from him, maintaining a proper physical distance. "Is it dangerous, Steve? I don't want a powerful unknown object lying around our house." She crossed her arms and raised a brow to meet his glower evenly.

Steve just shook his head again, locking his jaw stubbornly. "It's the last piece I have of her, Peg. I just," he trailed off while rubbing a hand across his jaw. "I know it sounds silly, but the stone – when I hold it, it feels like she's still with me."

Shifting her weight uncomfortably, she just shook her head. "Well, I can't have it at _my_ house until I know it's safe. Please just let Howard examine it." Stepping forward to take his hands in hers again to hold them tightly. "Please for my peace of mind, Steve."

He hesitated, closing his eyes to not stare into Peggy's hypnotizing eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was continue fighting with his wife, but something kept pulling on his chest, telling him to keep the stone safe. But it was Howard… the second smartest man he knew (after Tony of course). And Steve could be there to ensure that nothing could go wrong.

Opening his eyes, he gave a hesitant smile. "Okay." Peggy returned his grin with a soft kiss on his cheek in appreciation.

* * *

"Steve! Peggy!" Howard shouted happily as the married couple stepped into his lab. Lifting his safety goggles, Steve chuckled at the fact that the only part of his face uncharred was his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

"What did you accidentally blow up?" Steve chuckled as he grasped the inventor into a tight hug, ignoring the muck Howard was getting on his shirt.

"Ah, nothing important! What do you have for me to look at?" Howard asked as he shrugged off his lab coat and straightened his shirt collar, his eyes excitedly fixed on the box in Steve's hand. Steve pulled out the box to open it for Howard to see. Pulling on a clean pair of glasses, the inventor carefully inspected the stone in the box, fascinated by the eerie object. "I've never seen anything quite like this before," his voice was filled with awe. Reaching out to touch it, Steve had to restrain himself as Howard's hand came in contact with the smooth surface and he pulled it out of the cushioned box.

Howard walked it over to a magnifying glass and opened a notebook to immediately begin writing down his observations. He was so similar to Tony at that moment, it was uncanny, Steve thought with a pang of sadness over his lost friend. Peggy and Steve watched silently for the next several minutes while he alternated between scribbling and inspecting before Howard asked, "Where did you come across this?" His gaze shifted between his two friends.

Turning to her husband, Peggy raised an expectant eyebrow since she still hadn't heard the entire story yet, only that the woman her husband loved (_who wasn't her_) died to get it. Steve scratched the back of his neck, "It's called the Soul Stone. I don't know a lot about its properties, but do you remember the Tesseract?" Howard nodded, tilting his head in curiosity while Peggy narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "The Tesseract and Soul Stone are part of a set called the Infinity Stones, and when all of the Infinity Stones are collected the user is ultra-powerful."

Arching her eyebrows, Peggy inquired, "We know that the Tesseract was used as a power source. What do you know of this stone's powers?"

Steve shook his head sadly, "I just know that it requires a sacrifice to get it. And that it was on a planet called Vormir."

"_Another planet?!_" Howard exclaimed, excitement lighting up his face. Eagerly considering this new information, the billionaire missed the pained expression on Steve and Peggy's faces when he asked, "How did you come across this stone if it's from another planet?"

Casting his gaze down, Steve swallowed deeply and closed his eyes to calm the grief welling up in his chest. He shrugged away from Peggy's hand that came up to rub his arm, ignoring the flash of hurt in her eyes. It was selfish when he had a beautiful and caring wife at his side, but he couldn't bring himself to accept Peggy's consolation, yet he had to push past all of this. He'd agreed for Peggy's sake to have the stone examined.

"I can't tell you everything, Howard. I might have already said enough to change the future but my team managed to find a way to travel there and my teammate was able to retrieve it." Steve's tone hardened, causing Howard to not ask anything further. The raven-haired man just went back to examining it while Steve watched closely with gritted teeth, completely missing the sad look Peggy as she stood beside him.

After a few more minutes Howard said, "Well, I'd like to start by examining it's relation to the Tesseract. It's still in Level Nine right, Peg?"

She gave a jerky nod while Steve looked alarmed at the news. "SHIELD has the Tesseract?"

Peggy shot him an odd look, "Yes. It's much safer our hands than the remaining snakes who still slither around in the name of HYDRA."

The blond locked his jaw knowing that he couldn't say a word about the future and how SHIELD was slowly growing the parasite organization in its belly. He nodded in agreement, "You're right. I just wasn't aware you had it."

"Is there something wrong with SHIELD having it, Steve?" Peggy stepped closer, having caught something off in his tone. Her hawk-like eyes searched his thoroughly.

"No, dear. Nothing at all." Steve said quickly. Howard came back at that moment with a small briefcase, and Steve was surprised since he hadn't seen the man leave the room at all.

Howard must have sensed some of the tension in the room because he stayed silent as he set the briefcase next to a machine. It looked like a modern microwave to Steve, but he didn't voice that thought aloud since he wasn't sure if it had been invented yet. Steve's eyes never left the soul stone as Howard picked it up and set it inside the machine on a special tray, latching the door shut and pressing a button.

"I'm going to run some diagnostics on it," Howard told them as they watched a light move over the orange stone. It only took a few seconds in total, which Steve spent watching the stone glow brighter with each passing second. He swore he could hear a voice calling his name, but it was gone as quickly as it came. The machine beeped that it was finished and begin to print out a report, Howard read it over. "It has similar readings to the Tesseract, I wonder how it will react to some tests."

Opening the briefcase to reveal the glimmering, blue cube that Steve hadn't seen since the time heist, Howard pulled it out carefully to place it next to the soul stone in the machine. "This should give me a reading on if they'll react to one another."

Peggy inched closer, her eyes blazing with questions but Howard directed her behind a transparent observation wall in case something happened. Steve followed, the bad feeling in his gut growing a bit more about the tests, yet he allowed his faith in Howard to win out. As Howard activated the machine again, this time Steve knew he was hearing his name.

_Steve!_

Tensing up at the word ringing in his head, Steve felt a cold wave of shock rush over him. He knew that voice. The low level of it, how it always reminded him of a contralto when she would almost sing his name in greeting every time she saw him because she was so happy to see him. It was so familiar, his throat choked up at hearing it again.

That was Nat's voice. And it was coming from the soul stone.

_Steve! I'm here!_

Except, this time there was no joy in her voice. It was full of fear. There was something wrong, his gut was screaming now. He needed to turn off that machine. Instinctively he turned to Howard, "Turn it off."

"Why?" Howard gave him a blank look while Peggy's eyes narrowed like her husband had lost his marbles (which she was really beginning to believe he had).

"Just turn it off! _Now!_"

_Steve!_ Nat's voice was louder now, warped like she was in pain. Something was desperately wrong as the hum of the machine grew louder, a white light began to eclipse the lab.

"Turn it off, Howard!" Steve commanded again as his old friend jammed the button repeatedly.

"I'm _trying!_ But it won't—"

The light turned blue and Peggy's breath caught as she was suddenly looking up to see stars painted across the ceiling, if not for the urgency in the air she would call it beautiful. Steve's face paled as he realized the Tesseract had been activated, having seen this sight before when Red Skull had opened it during the war, right before he had been sucked into space.

_Steve! Help me!_ Nat's voice carried a tone he'd never heard before, a frantic plea that not once ever escaped from her lips. Nat had always been stubborn to a fault, rather passing out from the pain before she allowed herself to sound like this. To hear it kicked Steve's brain into panic mode. Taking matters into his own hands he dashed around the side of the wall towards the lights to reach his stone, to reach Natasha.

"Steve, no!" Peggy shouted, quickly grabbing his arm to keep him from being sucked into the vortex the Tesseract had created. Like a vacuum, it was pulling in everything around it: pens, electrical equipment, a notepad, even a mug that said _Jarvelous!_ on the side. Steve could feel the vacuum's pull on him as he reached for the soul stone, he pulled himself out of Peggy's grasp as his fingers barely grasped the smooth surface of the stone. He could feel the heat from the stone – which he now identified as Nat's presence – almost catching it when there was a sharp yank that held him back.

He was suspended in mid-air, helplessly watching as the orange stone fell into the open portal, taking Natasha with it. _Steve!_ Her voice echoed once more in his head before vanishing completely as the Tesseract dimmed, the portal closing. "No!" Steve cried as he fell back to the ground, the effects of gravity taking place again. He looked back to see that Peggy, Howard, and himself had been clipped to the wall to prevent themselves from falling into the vacuum. Peggy must've done it when he had been trying to get the soul stone, which was now lost.

His wife's expression was contrite as she crawled over to her husband, trying to pull him into a hug but Steve shrugged her off. He's done what she had asked to have the stone examined and they had ended up losing it into space. Howard was making a weak attempt at plans to get it back, but Steve waved them off as he left the lab. In his mind, he needed to be alone to grieve because he had just lost Natasha a second time.

* * *

It was a month later when Steve finally spoke more than a few words to Peggy again. They'd been walking on eggshells around one another – her not really knowing what to say any more while he was just too angry to say anything polite at all.

"You deserve better than me, Peg." Were his first words to her. Peggy stopped mid-sip of her afternoon tea while she had been reading the Sunday paper to look up and meet the blue eyes of her husband. They were no longer icy, now showing a storm of remorse and guilt. "I shouldn't have come back in the first place. I've just brought you nothing but pain."

"Steve, no!" She rushed to assure him (of what she wasn't really sure at this point). "I _have_ been happy to have you back. Even when I had accepted your death, there was always going to be a hole there."

He turned his head away, "I think we should get a divorce. We'll be quiet about it so I don't tarnish your reputation further, you can tell your friends whatever you want about me and I'll just leave."

Peggy frowned, he thought her reputation mattered at a time like this? At least a hint of her old Steve was still in there. "First off, I don't give a _damn_ about my bloody reputation, Steve. Second, where in the bloody hell did you come up with an idea like this? Neither of us has even mentioned divorce until now!"

"Peg, I can't be the man who went into the ice anymore. I—I can't love you the same way again, not the way you deserve…"

Pulling her hands back into her lap, Peggy had to admit that his confession did sting. Yet a question still remained on her lips, "Say you did divorce me, what would you do then? Go back to the future?"

The blond shook his head, "I can't. I used up the last of the particles that brought me here."

Peggy filed away that tidbit about special particles for later, sensing it was important before saying, "So, you would just live in the past alone for the rest of your life?"

Steve shrugged, "It's better than leaving you in a loveless marriage."

Pressing her lips together, she put a well-manicured hand in his large one. It was callused and rough, telling stories of the horrors he had been through. "But I do love you, Steve." She fingered the scruff on his cheek as her eyes met his while studying the result that years of hardship had left on him. Frown lines were etched permanently into his forehead, small scars peppered his face from various fights, his shoulders weary from carrying the burdens of the world on them, and his eyes held the tiredness of an old soul.

It was something she had seen in many soldiers over her years of service, a weariness that near-constant fighting brought. Steve was tired. That had been why he came to Peggy's house looking for his retirement, his happy ending. And Peggy resolved that she could give him that. (There was also a piece of her that would never forgive herself for taking away that stone from him that she would always be trying to make up for.)

She may not be the girl of his dreams, but she could still love him and offer him comfort. The pair still held a special connection that had been forged in the war, there was still a mutual love inside them. As they held a silent conversation, with Peggy stubborn and determined to love Steve for all of his worth and Steve slowly accepting that this could be good enough, they both decided that they could make this marriage work.

* * *

**Two years later**

A soft coo escaped his lips as he drank in the sight of his daughter in his arms almost reverently. Small tufts of dark hair peppered her head, and her blue eyes were closed behind sleeping lids right now. She was so minuscule in his arms, where he felt like he would crush her when the nurse first handed her to him. Yet now that he held her, he was just lost in a stupor that she was finally here.

And she was so _wrinkly_. But in a cute way, he was quick to amend after the verbal thought was followed quickly by Peggy's unamused glare. His wife laid on the bed beside him, resting after the labor while watching him interact with their infant daughter for the first time. The nurse had finally let him into the room once both his wife and child were given the all-clear by the medical staff.

"She's perfect, Peg." He murmured, leaning over to ghost a kiss on the edge of her forehead while she just looked at him sleepily. "I'll sit with her while you rest."

"I want to give her a name first, darling." Peggy moved to sit up, groaning weakly while a nurse rushed to help prop her up with a pillow before leaving to give the new parents some privacy. Steve continued to cradle his daughter with a wide smile before taking a seat next to Peggy so his wife could see their daughter better.

"I was thinking," he started slowly as Peggy's warm eyes shifted to his, "that we could name her after my Ma."

His wife agreed, her curls bouncing as she nodded. "I like that, Steve."

"Sarah Carter." He tested the name on his tongue, loving the sound of it. He had taken Peggy's name since no one could know he was alive in this timeline and just having her last name made the most sense. It would also protect his daughter to have her mother's name when she grew up and started venturing out into the world. Even though his daughter was merely a few hours old, Steve already felt an extreme surge of protection and love for his child. He could see her on her first birthday, attending her first day of school, going to their first father-daughter dance together…

His vision of her growing up kept going until Peggy spoke again. "I want her middle name to be Natasha."

Surprise etched itself on his face as he gapped wordlessly at his wife. Peggy's gaze was certain as their gazes locked. Nothing but love swirled in her chocolate eyes and Steve felt his heart swell at her suggestion. It had been months since that name had been uttered in their house, he'd almost thought their silent agreement to never breach the topic again would last forever. And now his wife wanted to honor Nat by naming their daughter after her? His love and appreciation for Peggy grew in that moment.

"Are you sure?" He couldn't help asking, hoping that this wasn't a dream. Despite their talk, he'd still carried around a heavy stone of guilt in his stomach for ever forcing this situation on Peggy, especially since she stayed by his side when he didn't deserve it. But now it felt like that weight was gone, it would mean that they were both making peace with the situation and able to move forward, although never forgetting the incredible woman who had influenced their lives without even knowing it.

"Of course," Peggy smiled sleepily. "She was a remarkable woman, Steve. Saved your arse enough times and for that I want to honor her."

Steve leaned over to press a kiss on Peggy's lips. "Thank you." The new parents shared a smile, enjoying the newfound amity between them at that moment. Steve's gaze returned to his daughter, whose open eyes were open and studying him intensely now. They were blue, several shades darker than his own, although they would probably morph into a deep brown like her mother's as she grew older.

"Hi, Sarah Natasha," he whispered softly. "I'm your Papa."

A small yawn escaped Sarah's lips, forming a small "o" that Steve felt his heart flutter at the sight of. Peggy joined his cooing as they sang her a soft Gaelic lullaby until the newborn fell asleep again in his arms. For the first time in months as he relished in the happy presence of his wife and daughter, Steve felt complete.

This was enough, he decided.

* * *

**London, 2016**

The chapel was rather stuffy for a fall day, causing Sarah to wave the program in front of her face in an attempt to combat the heat filling the large room. There was a large amount of people here to mourn her mother, which touched the grieving daughter deeply to know that her mother had impacted so many lives. Yet it still didn't lessen the ache in her heart from Mum being gone forever now.

She squeezed Papa's hand, feeling his bony grasp tighten in response, his pale blue eyes were fixated on young Sharon as she spoke. Sarah recalled how close Sharon had been to Mum, both sharing an avid interest in the world of spies and secret organizations. Having their younger cousin follow in Peggy's footsteps had made up for the fact that neither Sarah nor Michael had shared the passion that their parents had for saving the world, where she became a college professor at NYU and her brother had just recently retired from his editor position at the newspaper.

Not that they weren't proud of their parents' legacy, but they had been raised to keep it in the family. Only certain people were allowed to know Papa's real identity for the sake of a confusing timeline that Sarah still didn't understand to this day – but in several ways, she was grateful for the quiet life it forced her father to lead because it meant that he played the stay-at-home father while Mum worked. She cherished those memories fondly and it was easy to say that Sarah had grown up to be a Daddy's girl while Michael had always been closer to Mum. It was a pattern that had carried into Sarah and Michael's adulthood, each still going to their respective parent for advice even when they had their own families.

Her husband and son sat a row behind them along with Michael's wife and two daughters. Sharon's mother sat a few feet to their left and the more distant relatives were spread across the church, intermingled with the old work associates, friends, and even several casual acquaintances who came to honor Peggy Carter's memory. When Sarah turned to check on her husband, who sent her a worried smile, a flash of red caught her eye.

In the shadows of the back of the church stood a slim woman in a dark coat and wavy, auburn-colored hair. The stranger was scanning the crowd with calculating green eyes until they stopped on a young figure in the front of the church, sitting diagonally to where Sharon was speaking. The cropped blond hair and muscular posture told Sarah immediately who the man was: her father at a much younger age.

And that must make the red-haired woman Natasha Romanoff, the one Sarah shared a name with. Angling her head to discretely watch, Sarah peeked through her own gray curls to observe how Natasha inched her way through the shadows until she was closer to the younger version of her father. And there she stayed throughout the rest of the ceremony. Sarah wondered if Papa realized who was here, but she figured he must remember because he had already lived through this.

The past few years had been hard on them since Mum got diagnosed, but Papa had borne the brunt of it because of his prior knowledge. In the last few months he had been visiting Mum every day, even calling Michael and her to come for her last final days. It had been a mixture of a blessing and a curse then when Papa finally revealed to them that Mum was going to pass soon, all of the immediate family made sure to stay close for her final days. And then they had to prepare to have her buried in her home country, Sarah had quickly taken charge because dealing with flower arrangements and guest lists was easier than handling grief.

Now as the ceremony was ending, Michael and Papa stood to go help the other pallbearers, both refusing to not be involved despite their advanced age. Sarah stood to the side as a few more guests came up to share their sympathies with her. Luckily, she was rescued by her husband who quickly led her into a side corridor that was much cooler than the church overflowing with body heat and grief. "Oh dear," she mumbled to herself, grinning foolishly at her husband once they were alone. "I left my pocketbook in the pew."

"I swear you'd lose your head if it wasn't on straight, dear," her husband chuckled. The air around them lightened slightly as Sarah temporarily forgot her surroundings. "I'll be back in a flash." As he disappeared, Sarah took to admiring the rainbow of stain-glass that filtered across the gray stone floor. She was so entranced she failed to notice the other presence in the room until she bumped into them.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Sarah exclaimed with a hand on the other woman's shoulder. Her chocolate eyes met green ones (_The color of fresh spring grass_, Papa had once said about them). Natasha Romanoff quickly apologized and made to extract herself when Sarah surprised herself by saying. "You're Natasha, right?"

The redhead's eyebrow arched, "Yes?"

A half-smile came across Sarah's face, it was odd that she was technically older than this girl, yet was also named after the famed Avenger. "My mother was always impressed with your work as a spy. Of course, I didn't know until after you'd become an Avenger who you were since I didn't work for SHIELD, but she always thought you would 'amount to something good'." Her voice lilted to imitate her mother's British accent in the end while Natasha just continued staring at Sarah blankly.

"Oh, how rude of me," Sarah let go of Natasha's shoulder to shake her hand instead. "I'm Sarah Carter. Peggy was my mother."

Recognition flooded the spy's face, "Professor Sarah Carter at NYU? You teach criminology there, right? I read your book about women in law enforcement, it was very good."

"Yes," Sarah tilted her head in amusement. "I see both of our reputations precede us."

"Yes, they do." Natasha murmured, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Her gaze flitted up and down Sarah with a curious glint. "I knew that Director Carter had two children, but never much more than that. She was very protective of you two."

"Well, I believe it was a safeguard more than anything else." Sarah replied cryptically, "Hazards of the job and all."

"That makes sense," the spy agreed, but Sarah could see curiosity still lingering there.

The few times Papa had opened up about the reason why Sarah carried this woman's name, his voice had always held reverence with a twinge of sadness. And now that she was finally meeting Natasha Romanoff it was easy to see why. There was an unmeasurable intelligence within the spy, yet she was able to consistently catch her enemies off-guard by using her natural beauty and top-notch training that would leave any enemy stunned. Natasha Romanoff was always playing the underdog role where people underestimated her when really she was always was the smartest person in the room.

Sarah had seen footage of the spy fighting in New York, D.C., and Sokovia, but these two minutes of interacting with the famed Black Widow fascinated the criminology professor. She could see exactly why her Papa had been so enthralled by Natasha Romanoff during their years of working together. Sarah and her brother had grown up on stories of their father's adventures with the Avengers. Iron Man had always been Michael's favorite, but Sarah had always admired Natasha Romanoff.

The first female Avenger, able to fight on the same level with super-humans and gods, and had saved their father's life on numerous occasions... what was there not to admire? And in a way, the stories Sarah heard had inspired her to go into her first profession of law. Lawyers were upholders of the law, but at the same time they were also responsible for navigating through the world of legal gray to make sure justice was served while also protecting those that needed it. It had always seemed like something Natasha Romanoff would do.

Reminiscing on her childhood hero was a nice distraction from the events of the past few days, and it was definitely why Sarah kept scrambling for a reason to keep the spy around for a few more moments. "Thank you for coming. It would have meant a lot to Mum."

Natasha blinked in surprise at that statement. "Of course. Although, I also came to make sure a friend was doing okay."

Sarah furrowed her brow before remembering the interaction from earlier, "Steve Rogers?" It felt weird to say her father's name so casually. Natasha nodded, looking up at the ornate glass that was filtering light upon the two women. Her auburn hair was turning an ethereal shade of red from the sun's effect, almost like she was meant to be a part of the colorful stain glass decorating the church.

"You should go see him then," Sarah said. "Make sure he isn't alone today."

Natasha's lips parted, "I, well… it's not that simple."

"What isn't simple about it? He sounds like he needs a friend and you're clearly his friend."

A faint red dusting colored the spy's cheeks and Sarah paused with a jolt. _She likes him. She liked my Papa!_ It sparked something in her mind, all those times Papa would speak of Natasha, of _Nat_, and the wistfulness in his voice and glassy look his eyes would accrue. _But Mum was still the love of his life, he went back in time to be with her… _

But that was _after _Natasha Romanoff had sacrificed herself for the soul stone. A small gasp escaped her lips, as suddenly a lot more of her memories of Papa started to make sense now. "Are you alright?" The red-head in question's eyes narrowed as she scanned Sarah's fraught look.

"As well as can be expected on this day," Sarah mumbled, trying to neutralize her expression to which Natasha just nodded with an unconvinced look. "The grief comes in waves. I think you should go to your friend and make sure he's doing okay."

"And you'll be fine?" The spy was half-turned towards the doorway, still hesitating as she watched Sarah.

"Yes, dear. Thank you, but my husband should return soon." Sarah waved her off as the spy slid soundlessly into the main hall. Most of the mourners were gone, leaving a lone figure that Natasha quietly approached as Sarah peeked at them through a crack in the door. The younger Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff were clearly close she observed as she watched them embrace each other tightly as if they were each other's only source of comfort in the world.

It made her wonder what might have happened had things turned out differently for those two.

* * *

**A/N: well geez, that was a lot of angst to write and then re-read a dozen times while editing. **

**Few quick things:**

**1\. My muse made me do two alternative endings. This is the canon compliant/sad ending one. The next chapter (which I'm in the middle of writing) will be the fix-it chapter for Romanogers.**

**2\. Steve comes off as really selfish to me here for keeping the soul stone and putting Peggy into this whole awkward situation where he married her but was clearly in love with another woman the whole time. That one is on me for interpreting it this way, but I feel like this marriage will never be as fulfilling as the movie tries to portray it as. ****I felt like in canon they _had_ both moved on - Peggy with Daniel in Agent Carter and Steve with what should've been Nat - so now that they are together, they'll always have other what-ifs at the back of their minds. ****Yet this is the bittersweet ending the Russo's forced upon us and I'm just trying to make it as Romangers filled as possible, even if it is angsty.**

**3\. The most unexpected part of this was the last scene at the funeral, yet it became my favorite part of this chapter. Just Sarah Carter as a character, her interactions, and then eventual realization about her father being in love with a different woman before her mother is an interesting concept to me. **

**4\. And lastly my personal head-canon: Michael James Carter was Sarah's brother – named after Peggy's brother and Bucky respectively. He was a well-respected journalist who was often working to keep his mother and father out of various tabloids and newspapers because sometimes someone would bring up a conspiracy theory that Cap was alive (which was true) but they didn't want the world finding out. **

**5\. Reviews always make my day, tell me what you think :)**


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